I always try to remember what is important to me, especially around the holidays. I spend the holidays with family and friends and try and be in the moment...as in the true meaning of the moment. Its easy to do with my little dude. The Hubster and I always seem to be in the moment when it comes to him. Everybody always says you are going 100 miles an hour with kids...I think we're going 200 miles an hour...except when he is around. When he's around...we stop and smell the flowers... we take in him discovering something new to taste, play with, or throw;). Anyway we see it...he's our little bundle of sanity that reminds us just how truly lucky and blessed we are.
So, I received this poem via email (what else is there...oh yeah...real mail;), and I absolutely started bawling. Some of you have probably read it, but my pms-ing self read it and wept like a big ol baby. Love it...and makes me wish and hope that it is true...I'm a believer...and will be until I no longer can sit on Santa's lap...or at least until he kicks me off;)
Merry Christmas!!!
On Christmas Eve a young boy with light in his eyes
Looked deep into Santa's, to Santa's surprise,
And said as he nestled on Santa's broad knee,"I want your secret. Tell it to me".
He leaned up and whispered in Santa's good ear,"How do you do it, year after year?"
"I want to know how as you travel about,
Giving gifts here and there, you never run out.
How is it, dear Santa, that your pack of toys you have plenty for all of the world's girls and boys?Stays so full never empties, as you make your way
From rooftop to rooftop, to homes large and small,From nation to nation, reaching them all"
And Santa smiled kindly and said to the boy,
"Don't ask me hard questions, Don't you want a toy?
"But the child shook his head, and Santa could see
that he needed the answer. "Now listen to me.
"He told the small boy with the light in his eyes,
"My secret will make you sadder, and wise.
The truth is my sack is magic inside
It holds millions of toys for my Christmas Eve ride.
Although I do visit each girl and each boy
I don't always leave them a gaily wrapped Toy.
Some homes are hungry, some homes are sad,
Some homes are desperate, some homes are bad.
Some homes are broken, and children there grieve.
Those homes I visit, but what should I leave?"
"My sleigh is filled with the happiest stuff,
But for homes where disappear lives, toys aren't enough.
So I tip toe in, kiss each girl and boy,
And pray with them they will be given the joy
Of the spirit of Christmas, the spirit that lives
In the heart of the dear child who gets not, but gives.
"If only God hears me and answers my prayer,
When I visit next year, what I will find there
Are homes filled with peace, and with giving and love
And boys and girls gifted with light from above.
It's a very hard task, my smart little brother,
To give toys to some, and to give prayers to others.
But the prayers are the best gifts, the best gifts indeed,
For God has a way of meeting each need.
"That's part of the answer. The rest, my dear youth,
Is that my sack is magic. And that is the truth.
In my sack I carry on Christmas Eve Day
More love than a Santa could ever give away.
The sack never empties of love, or of joys
'Cause inside it are prayers, and hopes, not just toys.
The more that I give, the fuller it seems,
Because giving is my way of fulfilling dreams.
And so do you know something "You've got a sack, too.
It's as magic as mine, and it's inside of you.
It never gets empty, it's full from the start.
It's the center of lights, and of love. It's your heart.
And if on this Christmas you want to help me,
Don't be so concerned with the gifts 'neath your tree.
Open that sack called your heart, and share
Your joy, your friendship, your wealth, your care.
"The light in the small boy's eyes was glowing.
"Thanks for the secret. I've got to be going."
"Wait, little boy," said Santa, "don't go.
Will you share? Will you help? Will you use what you know?"
And just for a moment the small boy stood still,
Touched his heart with his small hand and whispered, "I will."
-Betty Worth Westrope
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